Black Light
by azkabcn
Summary: A universe where everyone is born with a pendant around their neck. A Consulting Detective feeling alone. An army doctor just passing by. The fates are pointing to one thing. A new relationship. AU one-shot.


Like everyone else in this universe, I was born with a pendant around my neck. It was black, which I was grateful for - if it was any other colour, I would have done anything in my ability to try and rip it off of me, even though my efforts would have gone to waste. The pendant was there for life. The only thing I objected to was the fact that it was heart-shaped. _Heart-shaped_. Out of all the shapes it could have been, it had to be a _heart_.

Now, everyone else would wait for their own pendant to glow a different colour to what it was, because it indicated that they had found their soul mate. I didn't care to find my soul mate; I didn't care to know who I would spend the rest of my life with. I was married to my work, and that's how it would stay.

My brother, on the other hand, though he put up such an uncaring front, was over the moon when his red pendant started glowing blue. Anthea's pendant was blue. Anthea was his employee. I personally found that a bit odd. Who in their right mind would pursue a relationship with their employer? But I couldn't do anything to change that: they were meant for each other. And despite everything he'd done to me, Mycroft deserved to be happy.

At first I thought my own pendant would glow silver, for Greg. Greg Lestrade was a police officer for New Scotland Yard. He was the only one in the Yard who took some kind of an interest in my abilities. He respected me more than Philip Anderson and Sally Donovan did, both of whom took a deep dislike to me the moment we met. That suited me just fine. They could hate me all they liked. I wouldn't care. I never did.

Then I thought it would glow orange when I met Molly. Molly Hooper, my favourite pathologist, had taken quite a shine to me. It was clear she was disappointed when neither of our pendants glowed the colour of the other's. I didn't mind Molly. She was sweet and funny with a morbid sense of humour, which I found endearing. I would never admit it to her; I was too proud to do so, and anyway, nothing would change.

She had Tom. Lestrade had Bethany. Mycroft had Anthea. Donovan had Anderson. I had no one. Yet. I knew I would find my 'soul mate' eventually, but for now all I had was my work, and my music.

I started playing my violin and I played my most upsetting tune. I didn't know why. I just felt so... so... _alone_. It was pathetic, really. Why was I, the World's Only Consulting Detective, feeling so alone?

I stood by the window of the living room in 221b Baker Street. My eyes were shut; I didn't need to look at my violin strings to play. I had memorised the routine years ago. I didn't hear Mrs Hudson enter the room. She cleared her throat, and my eyes snapped open.

I turned to her. 'Yes, Mrs Hudson? What is so important that you have to interrupt my musings?' I placed my violin down on the table beside me as I spoke.

'How is it that you can hear me when I clear my throat but you can't hear me when I yell?' she asked me incredulously.

'What? I was busy, Mrs Hudson,' I said, purposefully ignoring her question. 'This had better be worth my time.' I knew I was being unnecessarily harsh with her; I just didn't find myself able to soften my tone for her.

'You have a visitor, Sherlock, dear,' she said in her ever gentle voice.

'Who?' I said.

'He said he wanted to see you. Wouldn't tell me his name.' She disappeared into the kitchen and I called after her.

'Tell him to come up, will you?'

I didn't receive an answer from her after a few moments, so I rolled my eyes and left the room.

I started to run down the stairs, but I couldn't help but stop halfway. My mouth hung open with awe as I laid my eyes on the man standing before me. His eyes were a deep, luscious golden brown, his hair a sandy blond, cut into short spikes. The smile that he greeted me with as we made eye contact was filled with genuine sincerity. I hadn't had anyone smile at me like that in precisely eighteen years.

I found myself smiling back at him as I descended the rest of the stairs. I couldn't help but take a glance at his pendant. It was pink. (I can't say I didn't feel sympathy for him when I noticed. I thought having a heart-shaped pendant was bad enough, but a pink one was horrible. Especially for someone like him.)

He held his hand out as he said, 'Hi there. I'm John Watson. Your landlady called to ask me to take care of a technical problem somewhere?'

 _Mrs Hudson knew about him?_

I slowly shook his hand. 'Sherlock Holmes. Consulting Detective. Only one in the world.' I was just about to reply saying that there was no technical problem anywhere but then something else caught my attention. His pendant.

It was glowing. What was more, it was glowing _black_. _I_ had a black pendant. I chanced a glance down and saw mine glowing pink. It looked like I had found my soul mate.

I silently pointed to his pendant, and he followed my action. Then he looked at mine and a grin enveloped his face. And then, suddenly, I felt his arms wrap around my neck. If he hugged me any tighter, I would have been a dead mess.

I still couldn't bring myself to hug him back. I knew I had to, so reluctantly (though I hoped it hadn't come across that way) I rested my arms around his waist.

I heard him whisper, 'I knew something special was going to happen today. I had no idea it would be this.'

That comment made me smile like a maniac. 'Well, I guess this marks the start of a wonderful life ahead, John Watson.' My smile was genuine.

He chuckled. 'Yes. I guess it does, Sherlock Holmes.'


End file.
